


How Lessons are Learned

by Stuffy (AlexKingOfTheDamned)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Drug-Induced Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Force-Feeding, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, Scary Engie, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/Stuffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Engie has had it up to here with Scout. He decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Lessons are Learned

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't read the tags before you clicked on this fic then I'm not responsible for the things you find

 

Today is _not_ a good day.

 

It started out sort of okay, but then the hot water in the showers went out leaving half the mercs with suds in their hair. Engie doesn’t have hair, and the freezing shock was more of a wake-up for him than an inconvenience. But he didn’t much like the news that it would probably be as many as three days before the water heater got fixed. He made a note to check it out later and see if he could fix it sooner.

 

But then breakfast had to go ahead and get canceled. Not delayed or anything sensible, but _canceled_. Engineer isn’t sure how Blutarch can get away with canceling a whole meal for the men he’s paying to fight to the death for him. He’ll probably write him a letter.

 

He tried to keep his chin up. His mood spiked when he managed to get his sentry set up before the round started and kept it from blowing up through the entire round, but that was the only good part of the day. By the second round he’s already been sent to respawn more times than he can count on his fingers, in more ways than he wants to think about. First he got set on fire, he got backstabbed, one time he just backed his careless behind right into a mine shaft. With every nauseating trip back to respawn, his mood just dropped lower and lower, until he gave up with his sentries and ran at the enemy with his gun to try and blow off his frustrations.

 

And then of course BLU had to lose, and only by twelve seconds. By the time the work day’s called off he’s been stabbed, charred, shot, blown up, choked and crushed. His bad mood has skyrocketed to supreme levels. He needs to unwind before he misdirects his anger onto some poor soul.

 

He’s too frazzled to work on his designs, too anxious to read and too tired to work out. The only thing he can think of to do is cook. Being at a barbeque is always good for the soul and works wonders on his mood. He doesn’t have to think at the barbeque. Normally he reserves his cooking for holidays or the fellas won’t ever stop asking him to cook. Maybe today he can pass it off as a consolation prize.

 

Needless to say the Engineer isn't the only one on the team that feels bitter about how the day's panning out. Not only has the hot water run out, breakfast been cancelled, and BLU lost the match, but now Scout's run out of chewing gum, and that's just not acceptable. Bubblegum is the only thing that keeps Scout’s ADHD in check, the constant movement of his jaw is soothing. Now that he’s missing it he's slowly being driven absolutely bonkers.

 

Hey... maybe a Bonk would calm him down...

 

Oddly enough caffeine seems to help Scout cancel out his hyper-activity, if only by a little bit. At least he's not running around the base or sliding down the banister like a child. The team knew first-hand what Scout was like when his ADHD kicked into hyper-drive, and they definitely resent it. Usually they wind up carrying the Scout kicking and screeching to his room before locking him in... only to find out that he'd opened his room's window and was running across the rooftops as if he were on the track.

 

For now, though, he’s what he considers to be calm, and after heading downstairs and smelling food he hurries outside to find the Engineer starting on the barbecue. He decides, as usual, to poke some fun at the mechanic, unaware of just how tense the older man is after all that's happened today.

 

"Hey, yo, hard-hat! Still tryin' ta beat Ma's recipe, huh? Ya ain't gonna win, I'm tellin' ya! No one can make ribs like she can."

 

Usually, Engineer’s a pretty level-headed man. He closes his eyes at the grill and takes a deep breath in through his nose. Scout always does this, every time he cooks for all the guys. Nobody else can find room to complain, the food in the cafeteria is bad enough as it is. Even if he wasn’t a good griller – which, excuse you, he is – it would still probably be better than the slop they serve to the mercenaries.

 

Scout is the only one who sees fit to criticize his barbequing. For why, Engie can’t even tell. If the kid refused his cooking well then fine, he ain’t one to force food on someone who just plain doesn’t like it. But Scout consistently takes second and third helpings any time they have a cookout. Which must mean he’s being spiteful just for the sake of it.

 

Which, honestly, isn’t far-fetched when it comes to Scout. Pinching the bridge of his nose with his organic hand, Engineer fights the urge to backhand the young man across the face with his spatula.

 

Only when he’s absolutely sure he won’t breathe fire, Engineer lifts his head and forces a smile at the Scout. “Do you want a burger or ribs?”

 

It's hard to focus without chewing on something. Scout could really use that gum right about now... hopefully the food would be done soon so he could distract himself for a while. In place of not being able to chew, he puts his mouth to use by talking, shoulders and arms both lifting in unison as he exaggerates his shrug. "What's the difference? Neitha one's gonna compare!"

 

This is followed up by a laugh and an amused snort, which he fails to cover up even when he presses a balled fist against his mouth. The other arm folds over his middle as he shakes his head, slowly quieting the laughter down so he can answer.

 

"But if I absolutely gotta pick I guess I gotta go with the below-par ribs."

 

Engineer has to close his eyes again. The handle of the spatula is warped in the grip of the gunslinger.

 

“Ain’t this mama of your ever tell you it’s impolite to insult a chef?” Engineer asks bitterly, brushing his homemade barbeque sauce over a half-rack of ribs and setting them on the grill. “Certainly a chef givin’ you _free food_ who has intimate knowledge of various toxic chemicals and is tasked with keepin’ your behind intact through the day.”

 

"You're startin' to sound like Spy with all that toxic crap. Don't be like Spy. Nobody likes Spy. Spy doesn't even like Spy, a'ight?" What the fuck is he even talking about. At this point he's talking just for the sake of running his mouth. "And I can watch my own ass just fine, thanks. I think if anyone needs watchin' it's you. I mean, hell, if it weren't for those lil sentries ya keep plantin' ya prolly wouldn't even be here, am I right?"

 

There’s a screech, and both men look down to see that the gunslinger has warped the side of the grill with a tight fist. Engineer just grunts and unhooks his fingers from the holes he created.

 

“If it weren’t for those _sentries_ ,” he says, trying to keep his tone even. “I would be at _home_ , relaxing in my _fully staffed mansion_ , trying to figure out how to spend the _piles of money_ I inherited from my father. I certainly wouldn’t be feedin’ barbeque to ungrateful nose-wipers.”

 

Hmm. That's a first. Maybe Scout should shut up. But no.

 

"If it weren't for those _sentries,_ you'd prolly be dead. In fact you did die today. A lot." He really ought to stop, but he feels like he's on a roll, and once he's started there's no stopping until someone brings him to an abrupt halt. "You're nothin' without those sentries, hard-hat, and we both know it."

 

The noise that reverberates across the flats behind the base when the Engineer slams the hood down on the grill has the quiet chatter between the mercs silencing for a spell.

 

“Well, sport, seein’ as I’m an _engineer_ and that’s my _job,_ I’d say that’s a pretty fair assumption to make,” his tone has gotten an edge, but it’s still pleasant for the most part. “In the same respect I don’t think you’d do your job so well if I _cut off your legs_.”

 

The slamming makes Scout jump a little, but he keeps himself composed, and with a chuckle and a shake of his head he pipes up again. "You'd have to catch me first, old man, and we both know you can't do it. I doubt you could even lay a finger on me no matter how hard you tried."

 

That sounds like a direct challenge. Engineer isn’t the type to back down from a direct challenge. He has his pride after all.

 

He turns to face the other man, but all of the annoyance is gone from his expression, with nothing but forced complacency in its place. He crosses his arms at chest-height and gives the runner a venomous smile.

 

“Well, since you ain’t so happy with my cookin’ the way it is, why don’t I whip you up a special dinner? I can make up a whole array of sauces and you can try ‘em out and see which one you like best.”

 

Scout would be lying if he said the other man wasn't unnerving him a little, but the offer of a special dinner sounded rather nice. And despite everything that had happened a few moments prior he nods his head.

 

"A'ight, yeah, that's... no, that sounds pretty good, actually. I mean, yeah, Ma's is better, but yours ain't bad neither, y'know. Better than the rations, anyway."

 

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard a compliment come outta your mouth, boy. I’ll probably have some of this left over so I can rip up a few bites to dip into a few sauces. Now go sit down and quit orbiting me, I’ll call you for your ribs when they’re ready,” Engineer’s mood seems to have done a complete 180, and Scout is visibly whiplashed as he jelly-legs over to the nearest beaten-down picnic table in confusion.

 

He has no idea what’s in store for him.

 

===

 

Scout runs his mouth all the way to the Engineer’s room when the older man comes to fetch him after dinner. It’s only been about an hour since dinner was officially called over, after all the mercs got their fill. Scout’s habit of bad-mouthing Engie’s cooking while simultaneously wolfing down third helpings did not change tonight.

 

Engie isn’t even listening to him. He already has everything he needs set up in his room. A table and chair, and more leftovers than he knows what to do with. Normally he’d evenly distribute them, but today he has a point to make.

 

Scout doesn’t even stop talking long enough to notice the giant bowls filled with ribs, wings and drumsticks. Engineer takes his chair out for him and quietly thanks the lord that pretty soon the kid will be too overwhelmed to talk this much.

 

Scout is still running his mouth about ‘man, you shoulda _seen_ what I did to that mumblin’ RED idiot!’ and is so absorbed in his own padded tale of his cunning battle strategies that he doesn’t notice the Engineer fetching a giant coil of rope from the tool closet in his room. Engineer gives a little hum and a forced “and then what?” so the boy will stay distracted while he stalks up behind him with the rope, ready to strike.

 

"...and then I took out my Sandman, right, and this poor guy don't even know what's about to hit him, right... so I whack the bat into him and send the other guy flyin' outta the control point. I made a home-fuckin'-run with that shit, man."

 

Before Scout can take a breath to start on the next leg of his exaggerated tale, a loop of rope comes down hard over his shoulders and pins his elbows to the back of the chair. In the time it takes for Scout to shout, his right wrist is coiled around one arm rest, and by the time he whips his head back over his shoulder to try and see who’s attacking him, his left arm is pinned. And when he finally realizes it’s actually the Engineer who is tying him up, his ankles are already tied in place.

 

With the framework in place, Engie has the freedom to leisurely coil the rope back through the sloppy bindings to make them extra heavy-duty. Where the Engineer learned to tie someone up so quickly Scout has no clue, and his shocked expression is like sugar on the Engineer’s palate.

 

"Hey, yo, what the shit, man?!" Scout struggles against the ropes holding him down to the seat while the Engineer coils the rope back around. He's swirling in a combination of stunned, irritated... and also a little afraid; the mechanic's always been a calm man, never one to get riled up easily, and he has no clue what the man would do if he ever got mad.

 

Sitting open-mouthed in alarm, Engie takes the opportunity to rip of a small chunk of honey-glazed barbeque rib and set it on the boy’s tongue.

 

Scout’s surprise only grows when he finds himself being fed, brows furrowing together in confusion as he chews the meat slowly and swallows it. This... didn't seem so bad, actually; sure, he'd already eaten, but he could have it much worse. What he doesn't know is that it _will_ be.

 

"H-hey, if this is about what I said-"

 

“You mean all those choice words you had about my cooking?” Engie shakes one of the big bowls to spread the sauce more evenly that had settled at the bottom. His voice has gone low and rough again. “You know, when I do cookouts, I do ‘em out-of-pocket. Meaning, I pay for all the meat, I make all the sauce, and I do all the work. My blood, sweat and tears goes into my grillin’ for you fellas. And the only reason I do it is because the rest of the guys are grateful. You are the only one who resoundingly _ain’t_. I aim to change that.”

 

It's only then that he notices how many bowls there actually are, and for once he has nothing to say in reply. He didn't expect anything like this to happen; sure he knew he was probably in trouble for running his mouth again, like usual, but that was generally administered via a few slaps or punches, not... whatever this is.

 

He has to keep acting tough, though, he doesn't wanna cave yet. "I'd like to see ya try."

 

“First order of business,” the Engineer opens a small contraption in the corner of his room that he built himself, and the Scout realizes it’s a miniature refrigerator. He pulls a black zip-up case out of the fridge and carries it over to the table.

 

He completely ignores the Scout’s nervous inquiry as to what’s in the case when he sets it on the table and unzips it, lifting the top so it hides the contents from view. When he reaches inside and pulls out a needle, Scout pales.

 

The Engineer hums to himself through the litany of “come on, man!” coming from Scout, and flicks the needle to get all the air bubbles out. He squeezes the syringe until a tiny jet of liquid shoots out.

 

“Got this from Medic,” he croons, and steps up to the bound and wriggling Scout. “You’re gonna wanna hold still, believe me. This is a tissue injection, you are gonna be one sorry soul if I miss and get it in a vein cause’a your thrashing.”

 

Scout doesn’t seem to have a huge sense of self-preservation, but he has enough to sit still and just yell at the top of his lungs through a pinching and burning injection into his thigh right through his trousers.

 

Engineer takes his time returning the empty syringe to its case while Scout spits and splutters questions and demands. He sets the case back in the fridge and returns to the table. “That was a little drug of the Medic’s creation. Should be affecting you any moment now. It stimulates blood flow. Gonna get you stiff as a board, son. And if you wanna get off, you’re gonna keep _sampling_ my cooking until I see fit to let you stop.”

 

"The fuck're you talkin' about?!" He's starting to lose his cool. Just a little bit. Especially after what Engie says about the shot being a stimulant. This makes him glance down at the spot between his legs, where, sure enough, after a few moments, he could both see and feel his cock beginning to press against his pants. "Oh _fuck_..."

 

This really was bad. Of all the terrifying things that the mechanic could've done this was definitely near the top of the list. The runner whimpers a little and tries in vain to push his hips up, hoping to create some friction against his pants, but it doesn't work; he's tied down too tightly.

 

"C'mon, man! Don't do this!"

 

“You need to be taught a lesson about the consequences of your actions,” the Engineer says evenly as he picks a rib out of the first bowl and strips it of meat. He pinches a mouthful between his fingers and lifts it for the younger man, who looks hesitantly between the morsel and the Engineer’s face. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, son.”

 

“You – ” Scout starts to come back with something, but Engie pinches his jaw between his teeth with the gunslinger to force his mouth open, and he shoves the morsel into Scout’s mouth to the very back of his throat, where his only options are to either choke or swallow.

 

He wipes his fingers on his pants and watches the younger man gasp and gag and struggle to swallow the unchewed meat. “You’ve had a free ride up until now,” Engie lifts a cloth and wipes his hands. “Everybody’s just let you get away with all of your bad behavior because they can kill you on the battlefield the next day. But they don’t realize that you get killed ten times a day, so it don’t mean anything to you. I’m thinking a little more progressive than that. This is called upstream thinkin’, sugar.” He gropes Scout between the legs with the gunslinger, giving him a hard, ice-cold sqeeze. “If I punish you directly, you might actually _learn something_.”

 

Scout coughs and gasps after forcing himself to swallow, panting afterwards in order to catch his breath. This was bad. Real bad. If he didn't know any better he'd think that Engie was trying to kill him by force-feeding him like this. When he feels the other man's metallic hand pressing against his crotch he cries out quietly, both from arousal and pain.

 

"Fuck, c'mon, man! I've learned my lesson! I promise!"

 

“No you haven’t,” Engineer rips the meat off another rib. “You think I’m dumb, boy? You haven’t learned anything yet. If I let you go now, you’ll think if you just beg, people will let you off. I’m not going to let you off easy. You’re gonna suffer, and then you’re gonna learn. And then next time, you’ll think before you act because you’ll remember this. That’s how lessons are learned, son.”

 

He lifts another morsel to the boy’s lips. “Now I’ll say it again, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

 

Scout’s not going to get away this time. He knows that now. Even though he already ate and is already full he realizes that Engie is going to make him do this whether he wants to or not. There's no use trying to resist it... so in the end he sighs and closes his eyes before opening his mouth to let him feed him.

 

“That’s a good boy,” Engineer puts the meat on Scout’s tongue and watches him chew and swallow. “I believe in the stick and carrot method. This is the stick,” he lifts a drumstick to Scout’s mouth and grabs the back of his neck with his other hand to guide him to take a bite. “The carrot will be the reward if you finish. I’ll get you off.”

 

Scout _does_ want to get off. He really does. On the bright side the feeding is distracting him from his painful erection, and it's not long before he finishes the drumstick and licks his lips to clean them off. At least the food's enjoyable. He's still too proud to admit it still, but it's true.

 

Engineer continues to feed the obedient Scout, grabbing his neck or jaw whenever he disobeys or misbehaves. He forces him through half a rack of ribs, jamming the meat down his throat partially to make his point, and partially because he loves the way the Scout looks when he’s teary-eyed, red-faced and gagging.

 

He presents his fingers often for cleaning by Scout’s tongue, pressing them into his soft palate and under his tongue until he’s gasping open-mouthed and looking pleadingly at the older man for mercy.

 

“You got quite a mouth on you, boy,” he compliments, forcing another drumstick and a half into the choking Scout. “Perfect for stuffin’ full.”

 

Scout can't really hide the slight blush that dusts his cheeks as he licks the Engineer's fingers clean. Even though he hates the situation he's in he does find it somewhat erotic... or maybe that's just his overwhelming lust doing the talking. Either way he's unable to reply to what Engie's saying since he's constantly getting his mouth filled.

 

Engie feeds Scout a whole chicken’s worth of barbeque pieces before he gives him a break. Watching him squirm and groan with discomfort at being both overfull and ridiculously aroused is like a work of art.

 

He presses his hand to Scout’s stomach, which has just started to distend. He already ate a little bit more than he probably should have for dinner, and to have half a rack of ribs and almost a whole chicken inside him on top has him bloating out just far enough for it to be noticeable.

 

“You’re gonna look like a pregnant hen by the time I’m done with you, boy,” the Engineer croons. “And you don’t wanna know what I’ll do to you if you throw up.”

 

"I-I ain't gonna...promise..." At least, Scout hopes he won't. Since he's tied down he isn't able to stifle the hiccup that escapes him; he'd been fed too quickly and given a break a tad too late. He shuts his eyes tightly as he breathes shallowly, trying his best to ignore the pain in both his pants and his gut.

 

"A-are you really gonna make me eat alla that...?"

 

“Nah, I think you’d blow before you got all this down,” Engineer chuckles with menace as he lifts the second bowl and shakes it so the sauce covers the meat. “But you are gonna eat until you’re so full you can’t take another bite. You’re gonna eat your own words.”

 

He picks up a fat, dripping rib from the bowl and holds it out to the Scout. His nose wrinkles as he takes the first bite and realizes that this sauce is slightly spicier than the last. He doesn’t get a chance to comment on it though, before Engie is almost stuffing the whole rib down his throat.

 

Scout does his best not to choke when Engie pushes the rib into his mouth, instead biting down and letting him pull it back out as his buck teeth efficiently strip the meat off the bone and leaves his mouth full. It takes him a moment to chew and swallow, and once he does he can't help but cough a little.

 

"Jeez that's spicy."

 

“Are you kiddin’ me? That’s only alarm two. I’ve got up to five. You’re gonna be tryin’ em all,” the Engineer teases, sliding his fingers into Scout’s mouth to clean off the sauce. “That’s what you get for bein’ rude about my cookin’ _and_ my sentries in the same breath.”

 

He blocks out Scout’s whimpering, whining begs and holds up another drumstick for him. There are tears running down his cheeks as he swallows mouthful after mouthful of spicy, sauce-smothered meat.

 

It’s all over his chin and cheeks, dripping onto his chest and thighs. He’s shaking in his seat as the Engineer stuffs another handful of ribs and chicken breasts into him. The more he shoves down Scout’s throat, the more he can see the curve of his stomach against his blue shirt. He’s approaching the look of a man after a hearty Thanksgiving, but he’s going to wind up so much bigger by the end of this.

 

Scout's not used to spicy food, and if this is only level two then god knows how spicy level five will be. He does his best not to gag as Engie keeps shoving food down his throat, fingers clenching tightly against the arms of the chair.

 

His shirt was already fairly tight to begin with, but now that his belly's getting bigger it's starting to get uncomfortably tight. Of course, he can't do anything about it since he's tied down, so all he can do is whimper and squirm in his seat, swallowing a few times in order to keep the food down.

 

The Engineer chuckles to himself as he watches the younger man struggle. “You throw up on my floor I’m gonna make you lick it up, boy,” he warns, and takes the young man by the jaw. “You want some mercy?” You want me to give you some milk?”

 

Scout only nods desperately. He doesn’t expect to see the Texan pull out _bagged_ fuckin’ milk. But he pales in horror when he sees that there’s a tube attached to it, and a small valve. It’s not bagged milk, it’s a feeding tube.

 

“No! Please!” Engineer grins at the Scout’s protests, but he’s much stronger than the younger man is, even without the gunslinger giving him an unfair advantage. He pries Scout’s jaw open with mechanical fingers and stuffs the tube halfway down his throat. With a smile at the crossroads of sweet and malicious, he flicks open the valve on the bag.

 

Scout's protests are muffled once the tube's forced into his throat and past his gag reflex. His eyes widen when Engie flips the valve, and even though he knows it's of no use he squirms. His eyes clench shut as his stomach quickly swells, eventually forcing his shirt up a little so the underside peeks out from under it.

 

The bag was only filled with about a pint of milk, but the way he can watch Scout’s stomach grow makes his own guts slither around on top of each other. The kid looks so miserable, whimpering and wriggling and crying. If this won’t knock him down a peg, nothing on Earth will.

 

He gets a bite of meat ready once the bag is emptied, and stuffs it in at the exact moment he yanks the tube out, so the runner won’t immediately vomit on his floor. Scout has no choice but to swallow the mouthful, and it settles into his belly with a wet gurgle.

 

Engineer kneels down and grabs Scout’s tight stomach with his organic hand, and gives the taut skin a little shake. To his delight, he hears the loud sloshing of the milk inside, and Scout can only whine.

 

"Fuck, man, don't do that..."

 

Scout groans and swallows a few more times. Engie was right; he _doesn't_ want to know what'll happen if he rejects what the Texan's given him. He can do this. He can take it. He doesn't have much of a choice in the matter and there wasn't any point in complaining. The Engineer's going to do whatever he wants, and all Scout can do is sit and wait it out.

 

That doesn't make things any less painful, though. Between the tightness of his erection pressing against the rough cloth of his running pants, and his shirt tightening around his loudly-gurgling stomach, he's doing all he can to keep from crying out. He's miserable, but he's going to do his best to keep Engineer from having the satisfaction of knowing.

 

Engineer lifts another couple ribs, one in each hand, and forces Scout to messily choke them down. He’s whimpering loudly while Engie shoves his fingers down his throat, with or without over-sized bites of meat accompanying them. He fits his knee between Scout’s spread thighs to give the boy something to grind against while he swallows down another drumstick and chicken breast.

 

“Lookit you,” the Engineer teases, lifting Scout’s shirt up over the small swell of his stomach. “Belly round like a puppy, sauce smeared from your nose to your chest, gettin’ off on humpin’ my leg like a preteen. You’re a mess, son.”

 

It's incredibly humiliating, being reduced to this, and it takes everything Scout's got to resist whimpering as he keeps rutting his hips against the Engineer's knee. If only he'd move a little closer... press a little harder... he'd be able to get himself off in a matter of seconds.

 

Of course, the mechanic doesn't grant him that. Just when he thinks he's about to come the man pulls back, forcing a frustrated groan out of Scout before he clenches his teeth and leans back in his chair, taking shallow breaths so he doesn't upset his stomach any more than he has to.

 

Engineer gives a short, cruel laugh and moves onto the next bowl, shaking it like he did with the previous two. The meat is cooling off a little in the temperate climate of his room, which might give the runner some relief against the spicier sauce.

 

“Try this one on for size,” he says as he forces the meat of a stripped rib past the Scout’s teeth. He laughs again when the Scout gives a weak cry as the spice assaults his tongue, but he chews and swallows obediently anyway. He has to lick Engie’s fingers clean after, and the Texan couldn’t be more pleased with watching him shake and whine and cough.

 

He feeds him through another two ribs and a couple drumsticks, trying to imagine what Scout’s belly must be feeling by now. He can hear it gurgle in protest with every swallow of meat the runner packs down into it. If he had two organic hands, he would rest one on his stomach to feel the way the meal inside churns and ripples, but he wouldn’t give up the Scout’s tongue on his fingers even for that now.

 

Fuck it's hot, and he's still got two more levels to go through. The realization makes Scout tilt his head back and groan tiredly, mouth open in a constant pant to try and relieve the heat he's feeling on his tongue. He keeps his eyes shut, too embarrassed by his current state to look the other man in the eye.

 

The panting is occasionally interrupted by a burp or hiccup, and the latter always has him following it up with a soft groan of pain, since they only serve to jostle his stomach further. His shirt's ridden half-way up by now, and the coolness of the room makes him painfully aware of just how big he's gotten.

 

Scout is forced to eat another two chicken breasts, drumsticks and ribs before the Engineer gives him a break. His stomach has extended into quite the little globe now, hard as drum and perfectly round from top to bottom. It shakes with his shallow breaths and whimpers, and the Engineer has to pause to examine his handiwork.

 

The younger man already looks wrecked. Red-faced, runny-nosed, smothered in sauce, with a spot forming in the crotch of his pants and his belly full and heavy. He can’t believe how good he looks, knocked down off his high horse. He looks so helpless now, nothing like the loud-mouthed bat swinging runner he is on the battlefield. The thought of Scout completely intoxicated and powerless at Engie’s mercy has the Texan shuddering in his boots.

 

He can’t help but palm at himself as warmth fills his guts. The way Scout looks up at the motion and whines at his own neglected prick only makes the Engineer press harder between his own thighs. He even gives a little groan to let the younger man know just how _good_ it feels, just exactly what he’s missing.

 

Scout whimpers and tries not to look. Engie is... turned on by this? What exactly was turning him on? Was it his misery? Was it the sight of his pants being painfully tight? Was it how big his stomach was? Maybe it was all three. Either way it's both frustrating and infuriating to watch, and it only makes him start struggling in his seat again.

 

"None'a'that, now, boy..." The mechanic commands firmly, though he doesn't move from his position as he keeps watching. Amazingly enough Scout listens, settling back down in his chair and huffing quietly as he stares at the other man.

 

"Are ya gonna stand there and gawk or are ya gonna feed me more?"

 

Engineer is over the moon. He can’t believe the kid has already relented to asking to be fed. He’s giddy with excitement as he shakes the sauce over the contents of the fourth bowl. He licks the sauce off his own fingers, and gives a little whistle at the tingle of sauce on his tongue.

 

“This one’s gonna be a doozy, boy,” the Engineer warns. “But I’ll tell you what… you behave and eat everything outta this bowl I give you, I won’t force you to eat outta the five-alarm bowl. Your last helpin’ will come back outta the first bowl. How’s that sound?” he asks with a sickly sweet smile.

 

That sounds almost too good to be true, especially considering how the Engineer's treated him thus far, and it makes Scout narrow his eyes suspiciously for a few moments. He's not really in any position to consider turning it down, though, so after the moments are up he nods submissively and opens his mouth, even sticking out his tongue a little so he can make sure to get everything that Engie has to offer.

 

Engineer groans and swipes his thumb across that tongue to feel for how wet and soft it is. Scout obediently licks for any sauce that might be clinging to his skin, and sensation ripples through Engie’s body as he imagines that tongue wrapped around his cock.

 

He starts to feed Scout from the bowl again, laughing whenever the younger man whimpers at the spiciness of the sauce. He chokes on a rib and almost coughs out a drumstick, forces down a chicken breast and pants his way through a couple wings. His stomach is aching, all of this spicy food isn’t very good for him, but the Engineer just keeps feeding him.

 

Two more ribs, four more, packed down into his gorged belly. He just keeps swelling out bigger, round and heavy and almost touching his thighs at this point. Engie can hardly contain himself and gives the Scout’s full belly a firm rub with his sauce-smeared hand.

 

It’s hard for Scout to keep from complaining - it hurts, both his mouth and his stomach - but he's hoping that the Engineer's serious about his offer, that if he's good he won't have to touch the fifth bowl. So he keeps choking down everything that he's given, holding back groans whenever he swallows and forces his belly to stretch out another inch or two.

 

By the time Engie finishes the fourth bowl he's panting harder than before, even though it doesn't really help get rid of the intense heat that's got tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. His salivary glands are in hyderdrive, trying to soothe the burning ache in his throat. He’s too far past shame to stop the drooling, an almost constant stream of saliva dribbling from his tongue onto his thighs.

 

If he had his usual attitude he'd demand more milk, even though that'd make him swell up a lot faster, but right now it'd be more welcome than anything. As it is he's trying not to cough, both because it might make the Engineer take back his promise and also because it'd hurt his stomach a lot more.

 

Blue-gray eyes stare at Engineer pleadingly as the aforementioned tears finally spill over onto the runner's cheeks involuntarily.

 

"Did I - urp - do good?"

 

“Aw, hell,” the Engineer groans, and adjusts his package again. “Yeah, you’re doin’ well alright.”

 

He grabs the first bowl again, mixing the remaining meat inside in the sauce. When he lifts the first rib to Scout’s lips, he bites into it with relish. The sauce is so mild and sweet on his tongue that he almost starts to sob as he strips the meat from the bone, and barely chews it before he swallows, in a hurry to soothe his burning throat.

 

Feeding Scout is a breeze now. Whatever fight he had in him has completely left him now, as he fills himself up with the mild sauce and heavy meat. He gulps down huge bites, trying to overwhelm the spiciness of the previous sauce, but it only serves to fill his stomach up faster.

 

Scout’s been so obedient, he deserves a small incentive to continue. He gives him a break while he goes to fetch another bag of milk, chuckling when Scout pales. Instead of forcing the tube down his throat, he empties the bag into a cup and lifts it to Scout’s mouth.

 

There's no resistance left in Scout as he obediently lets Engineer press the cup to his lips so he can drink, and although it hurts his painfully-stretched stomach, he is grateful for the fact that it soothes the burn in his mouth and throat. Once the cup is drained he licks his lips clean and relaxes, head lulling forward as he breathes carefully to keep from straining his middle any more than he has to.

 

Engineer chuckles and gives the boy a rest to rub his aching belly. He gives him a few soft caresses, and then applies a little more pressure, and goes back to softer rubbing. Scout is whimpering and whining, trying to arch against the touch.

 

“See, when you’re good, you get rewarded,” Engie supplies, indicating the gentle petting Scout is receiving on his huge, sticky belly. “When you’re a li’l shit, you get punished. Get it yet?”

 

"Ye-yeah...I get it..."

 

Now that he's done he's actually kind of amazed at discovering just how much he's capable of eating. Sure it's not very comfortable, but at the same time it has a somewhat good feeling to it too... something he can't really explain. His face and ears heat up a bit when he dares to glance down at himself, a quiet whimper and a hiccup escaping him afterwards. The rubbing loosens a hearty belch that spills out of his mouth and releases some of the pressure from his belly.

 

"That feels good, man... can ya maybe keep doin' it? Please?" His own words surprise him a little; after what he'd just gone through he thought he'd want to be as far away from the Engineer as possible. Now here he is, begging him to continue.

 

The Engineer gives a wicked little chuckle. “You think you’re actually in any position to be makin’ requests, boy?”

 

“N- No, I’m sorry – ” Scout rushes to say, afraid that Engineer will make him keep eating.

 

Engie stands up and leans back against the table. With a smirk, he starts to undo his heavy utility belt and drops it down to the floor. “You got one more thing to swallow down, son,” he says, unclipping his overalls so the front flap sags and he can slide them down to his knees.

 

Scout had kind of expected this... he'd just been hoping that it wouldn't happen. Nevertheless he finds himself licking his lips a bit, moistening them, before he breathes a little harder and stares up at Engie's face.

 

"How am I gonna do that when I'm in this chair, huh? I can't bend down that far."

 

Engineer chuckles and kicks his overalls off his boots so he can lift a boot up onto the chair between Scout’s spread thighs, putting his groin within just a few inches from Scout’s face. “There ya go,” he says, unzipping his jeans and tugging his cock out. It bobs heavy and erect, fully within reach of the restrained Scout.

 

Scout manages to hold back a curse when Engie fixes the height problem, but even though he loathes the thought of swallowing something else, he can't exactly deny that it's also an appealing thought, if confusing and irritating, considering how strongly he’s been denying his bisexuality for as long as it’s existed.

 

But here he was, staring at the other man's cock with a rather lustful gaze that betrays the disgust he'd worn moments prior. It's thick and hot enough that he can feel it before the tip ever touches his mouth. His lips are smeared with pre-come that he quickly licks off. It's salty, but not exactly bad, even though he's been fed past his limit, and soon he's licking the tip, then sucking it into his mouth eagerly with a muffled moan.

 

“Aw hell,” Engineer groans, and cups the back of Scout’s head. His face is a mess of tears, snot and sauce, his cheeks are bright red and his eyes are bleary, he doesn’t look at all like the cocky man he usually is. He looks like an unsure child, tasting a treat to see if he likes it. Engie sighs contentedly and sifts his fingers through the boy’s short downy hair. He wants to fuck the boy’s throat raw, and given a different circumstance, he would. But he doesn’t want to risk being vomited on mid-blow. The thick contents of Scout’s stomach rolling down his thighs would definitely be a turn-off… even if it would be amazing to watch Scout gag and choke and struggle through the rest of the blow with the taste of his own vomit on his tongue.

 

He slides the toe of his boot forward, close enough that Scout can grind on it if he chooses to, but he’s so absorbed in the dick in his mouth that he doesn’t even seem to notice at first.

 

By the time he does, of course Scout takes advantage of it, even though he really can't do much; he doesn't want to upset his stomach any more than he has to, so his thrusts are incredibly shallow, but at least it's _something_.

 

“You’re doin’ well, boy,” Engineer grunts, licking his lips. He was already so riled up from the whole process of destroying the kid, it isn’t going to take much of this to get him off. Even if he wasn’t currently halfway down Scout’s throat, if the sensations weren’t mind-blowing, the sight of it alone probably could have sent him off. He looks so miserable and embarrassed, sucking at his cock like a child might suck a popsicle. It’s obvious this is Scout’s first blow. He’s clumsy and slow, and explores every vein and ridge with his tongue and obvious interest. His brow is furrowed, his eyes alternate between squeezed tight in thought and staring hopefully up at the older man.

 

He looks like a filthy juxtaposition, wide glossy blue eyes staring innocently up through wet lashes, pink cheeked like a baby, but with his mouth stretched around his dick like a practiced whore. Engineer moans loudly at the sight and presses his thumb against Scout’s lower lip.

 

He cups the back of Scout’s neck to hold him still and starts to thrust shallowly, going slow and easy to gauge just how deep he can thrust to prevent being retched on. Scout adapts fairly quickly – unsurprisingly, given he has to adapt on the battlefield every day in order to survive – and relaxes his throat for the Engineer’s dick.

 

“You sure you ain’t never sucked cock, boy?” he jeers, teasing Scout’s earlobe with his thumb. He groans as his pelvic floor flutters and his climax inches that much closer.

 

"Mhmm."

 

The noise makes his mouth vibrate around Engie's cock gently as he keeps staring up at his face, inhaling softly through his nose when he sees just how much the older man's enjoying this. He'd always wondered what it was like to suck a guy off, and he can't say he's disappointed at all, even if he hadn't exactly agreed to it in the first place. Scout chokes, his stomach flips, but he won’t throw up, he won’t. He fears for his life if he throws up.

 

This is definitely one of the best decisions he’s ever made, Engie decides as he throws his head back with a moan. He might capture Scout again sometime. His pleasure coalesces in the epicenter of his body and shoots out of him in a beam, he shouts and doubles over, clutching the Scout’s soft hair and grinding deep into his mouth.

 

“Swallow it down, boy,” he hisses and grunts, riding out his climax with shallow thrusts.

 

Scout’s thankful for the small amount of come that leaks into his mouth. It doesn’t even constitute a full mouthful, and he can barely feel it going down. Engineer’s cock slips out of his mouth and he immediately lets out a wet belch of all the air Engie’s dick had punched down his throat.

 

“Please,” he pants, sniffling loudly, a few tears dripping from his eyes onto the Engineer’s boot, still planted between his thighs.

 

“You were good,” Engie says, opening Scout’s pants and finally giving him some relief from the pressure. His belly sags a little now that it has room, filling out even rounder. He doesn’t even have time to thank the Texan before his sticky, wet hand is closed around Scout’s cock.

 

The runner throws his head back with a shout. Engie’s hand is quick and merciless, slapping loudly over the length of his dick. Scout is embarrassed that it only takes a few strokes before he’s coming, screaming his pleasure unashamedly. His thighs quiver and his belly shakes as he cries. The last muscle spasm calms, and he sags back into his seat with a whimper.

 

Engineer stands up to admire his handiwork. Scout looks as debauched as any person has a right to be, boneless in his seat, covered in sauce and saliva and come, clothes all rumpled and pushed away from his huge belly.

 

“What’d we learn today, son?” Engineer asks, his tone sugar-sweet.

 

Scout’s head feels like it’s full of cotton when he lifts it to look at the Engineer. “T’not be a dick,” he says, his tongue feels numb.

 

“What happens when you’re a dick?” Engie confirms, petting the back of Scout’s neck.

 

“I get pu- punished,” Scout hiccups, and burps again, swallowing down the little surge that threatened to spill from his lips.

 

“That’s a good boy, I knew you could learn,” the Engineer smiles and leans down to kiss Scout’s sweaty forehead.

 

He leaves Scout tied up for several minutes as he cleans up. He washes his hands and puts his overalls back on, clears away all the leftovers to be distributed later, sets away the table and wets a cloth to wipe it down. Scout is trapped for another twenty minutes before the Texan finally undoes the knots of his binds and releases him.

 

“You’re free to go,” he says, gesturing to the door.

 

“You expect me to walk like this?” Scout whines, arching back in the chair so he can point his belly straight up and take some pressure off of it.

 

“Why yes, I do,” Engineer’s tone drops again. “Unless of course you’d prefer to stay. There’s plenty more to eat here if you ain’t finished.”

 

Scout levers out of his chair in a flash. He groans and grips his belly, tugging his shirt down over it. He tries to suck it in, but it won’t move a centimeter. Wobbling out of the room, he wipes his face on his handwraps and then he’s gone.

 

Engineer smiles to himself as he imagines all the people Scout has to pass in the halls. How many people will know that Scout has finally been subdued with a little tough love. He wonders if he’ll get any thank-you cards.


End file.
